Shakeup (Stone Barrington #55) - Stuart Woods Page 0,33
“Read it aloud to me.” Joan came in and sat down, pad and pencil at the ready.
Dino slowly read out the pass code, with Stone repeating every character as he entered it. Another on-screen message appeared: You made it. You have twenty minutes to read the file.
The screen wiped, and a typed form filled the screen, along with an older photograph of Clark, in a Marine dress uniform, his cap too large and resting on his ears, looking very young.
Stone began reading the file aloud, while Joan took shorthand.
It was four pages long.
“Done,” Stone said, twenty minutes later. The screen image of the file dissolved and melted away.
“Done here, too,” Joan replied.
“Type that up for us, please. We’ll be upstairs.”
Fred entered the room. “Gentlemen, lunch is served.”
“Those words always make me hungry,” Dino said.
* * *
—
Later over coffee: “It’s difficult to believe that the pudgy, bald guy we know was once a Marine,” Dino said.
“A Marine trained for special operations,” Stone said. “You know what I find most interesting about that?”
“What?”
“That Donald fired Expert with the Colt 1911 .45.”
“And with every other firearm in the special ops repertoire,” Dino replied.
“What bullet killed Art Jacoby’s girlfriend?”
“A .45,” Dino replied. “Anybody who could fire Expert with that weapon is damned good. I could never even hit the target with it.”
“Well, you’re pretty good with most guns,” Stone said, “so that says something about Donald’s skills.”
“What do you mean, ‘pretty good’?”
“Okay, more than pretty good.”
“Damn straight.”
“So, we have motive and means,” Stone said. “But opportunity?”
“I left my office in a rush, and I didn’t bring the file on the girlfriend’s shooting, but you can bet your ass Donald Clark has a solid gold alibi.”
“Can’t you remember what his alibi was?”
“I’ve got it,” Dino said. “He was dining with the D.C. chief of police.”
“Little Debby,” Stone said. “How convenient.”
“Ain’t it?” Dino said.
“I’ll bet that with a little elbow grease we can punch holes in that story.”
“I’ll get somebody with elbows on it,” Dino said, getting out his phone.
29
Stone picked up his own phone and called Art Jacoby.
“This is Jacoby.”
“It’s Stone. Are you settled in?”
“Very comfortably, thank you.”
“Dino and I just accessed Donald Clark’s file, which was blocked for national security reasons. That make any sense to you?”
“There must be something in his background that nobody wants you to know.”
“There was something,” Stone said. “He was in the Marines when he was younger, and he fired Expert with a Colt .45.”
“Interesting,” Art admitted. “I couldn’t do that, and I’m a pretty good shot.”
“That’s not the point. Your girl was killed with a .45, right?”
“Right, but she was shot at close range, so anybody could have done it.”
“I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t think of that. Did they find the weapon?”
“I don’t know, and I can’t call anybody at my shop, because I’m hiding out.”
“Would they give that information to Dino?”
“Probably. Just ask for the case officer.”
“There’s something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Clark’s alibi is that he was having dinner with Little Debby.”
“That’s not just interesting, that’s suspicious,” Art said. “In fact, as far as I’m concerned, culpable. It’s too convenient.”
“So they were both in on it, then they used each other as an alibi?”
“That’s my opinion,” Art said. “If I were running the case, I’d be all over that.”
“Who’s the case officer?” Stone asked.
“I don’t know, and I can hardly phone anybody down there and ask.”
“I’ll get Dino to find out who the case officer is. What do I do then?”
“Ask him if he’s tried busting that alibi yet. If he hasn’t, the case officer’s probably in on it, too.”
“Good idea.”
“You know, if they can’t break the alibi, I think I’ll just kill Don Clark myself.”
“I didn’t hear that,” Stone said.
“I SAID, IF—”
“I mean I didn’t hear it,” Stone said. “And if you repeat it, I won’t hear it then, either.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“I’ll get Dino on it.”
“Good. Let me know what he comes up with.”
They hung up, and Stone turned to Dino. “As far as Art is concerned, Don’s alibi being Little Debby means they’re in it together. Can you call the DCPD and find out who the case officer is? Art can’t do it without exposing himself.”
“If he does that in my city, he’ll get arrested!” Dino said.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“Okay, you want me just to call down there blind and ask who the case officer is?”
“I was hoping that, being as well-connected as you are with all things police, you might know somebody who could find out without tipping our hand.”
“I didn’t know we